


Salvation

by Nalyra



Series: A blackish red hue [8]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Murder Husbands, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 22:15:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7455895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nalyra/pseuds/Nalyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will follows Hannibal and Clarice after escaping imprisonment. </p><p> </p><p>>> This is Hannigram and it will end their being "on-the-road" (eventually ;)). Some smut, but not as much as you'd think^^ (you'll see why). </p><p>More or less a conclusion of this main arc, other things to follow. Start with Baptism if you haven't :p</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So - I wrote this on my phone with a bluetooth keyboard on vacation - with cocktails ;). You find errors: tell me or keep them :))
> 
> Hope you'll like it - and ... read the end notes I guess. Comments very welcome!

Will walks in a dreamlike state, the wind warm, the early evening sending long shadows across the plains. One step after the other, ever closer to Bahia Blanca. There are few houses around, population becoming more dense only slowly, a tranquil quality to this piece of earth.  
He takes a cab he is lucky to catch, parked before a bar, its owner taking his last Dollars without comment, slamming the whiskey glass down, grinning widely. The address is in the better part of the town, of course, the size of the city roughly a third million souls. Just big enough to hide some monsters.

Will gets out of the cab very slowly, his heart thrumming in his chest. The big, worn mansion is dark save a few windows to the side, no shadows visible. He stands there for a moment, calming his breathing, everything whirling through him yet sharpening to a chrystal like quality. His feet are leaden when he moves them, his steps sluggish now. There’s no way Hannibal will make this easy. He knows Will is coming after all, Chiyo having relayed the info of course.

There is a big brass knuckle on the door and Will smirks at is, because of course there is one of those at a mansion. He wouldn’t be surprised if Hannibal had had that explicitely installed. He uses it, the loud crack against the door literally vibrating through the house. Will closes his eyes in annoyance when he hears heels on the floor. Goddammit, Hannibal.

The door opens slowly and he puts on his game face, trying for charming. She looks almost unchanged, hair darker now, her natural dark blonde color restored. It suits her much better, going well with the low-cut dark green satin dress. He greets her, his voice soft.

„Hello, Clarice.“

She smiles at him, but does not move to let him in.

„Hello, Will.“

He swallows, a thousand questions on his tongue. He forces them down, the charming mask slipping with fury for a moment.

„Where is he?“

She giggles, her eyes flitting around wildly.

„Why here, of course.“

Will narrows his eyes, cranks up his empathy. She is unfocused and … blank. Only superfluous emotions, nothing true for him to pick up. Drugs. He closes his eyes, annoyed. 

„Let me in, Clarice.“

She puts a hand across her mouth in a show of mock scare, her voice a loud whisper.

„Oh, but Will, I can't! He said he doesn't need any more sacrificial lamb.“

Wills mouth is dry and he has to close his eyes again against the pain her words elicit. So, Hannibal had caught on. Had known he was out there somewhere, not part of the lie they told him. Had known that he sent her. Had known he started the train of events that would lead to both of their escapes. Had fucking known. There's a scream perched under his chin, but he forces it down, feeling light headed, a migraine forming behind his eyes. He forces himself to listen when she continues.

„He says the wrath wounded too deeply, you know. The lamb of God has to fully become the lion, not caring for the petty concerns of morality in it's hunger before salvation can be reached.“

She giggles again, throwing her pretty head back, the low light illuminating her dilated pupils. High as a kite. Will grinds his teeth, considering his options. He -could- easily force his way in, her strength no match for his. But he is pretty sure Hannibal would be gone in an instant. Or kill him. Or both. If he goes in now he will lose.

Her hands draw up to her face, watching him watching her. She deliberately pushes them down slowly, her hands catching on the thin material of her dress, her expression inviting. He keeps his eyes on her face, his expression grim. Hannibal and his fucking games. His voice is acidic.

„You should go and get dressed properly, Clarice. Come on, you're more than this.“

She pouts and Will has to really stomp on the impulse to shake some sense into her. Whatever Hannibal did to her is definitely working. And fucking going on his nerves. 

„He said I should… entertain you if you'd like. He said it would be the only thing you could share now.“

Will freezes, his heart skipping a beat. Share… his vision goes red, the tunnel drawing in. His head lowers itself a tiny fraction, the antlers breaking free at breathtaking speed, the darkness enveloping his soul.

She looks at him confused, no scripted response for the hostility with which he stares at her available. She licks her lips, her gaze flickering to the space behind the door. Will closes his eyes, reaching with everything he is, but the answering echo does not happen. Fine. 

He gasps and then snarls at her, seeing her take a step back, stumbling and suddenly knows, just KNOWS that Hannibal wants him to kill her and the impulse is so prominent he can almost taste the copper on his tongue. His fingers itch to rip her apart. He stills, trembling and panting and then steps back, drawing himself up to full height, the move taking almost all his strength. He forces a smile and addresses the space behind her, voice dripping with sarcasm.

„Fine. You don’t want the lamb anymore, good to know. I'm sorry I managed to provide us both with ways to get us both out of prison, and alive at that. Go ahead and fuck your little… plaything, beloved.“ 

The endearment rings in the air, his tone vicious. He turns, his chest a maelstrom of pain but turns back once more and offers the envelope with the printout of their photo silently. She takes it, her expression confused and then resolving into an empty smile again. He shakes his head and walks towards the street, his back straight. He doesn't look back.


	2. Chapter 2

He sells his silver jewelry to some street kids to have enough cash for another cab. It takes him downtown and Will spends a few hours walking aimlessly in the less savory parts of town, drawing those that want to die or hurt him, attracted by his looks, his suit or his aura. He is merciless that night, his emotions a dark swirl, his hands his only weapons. He strips the bloody suit in the early morning hours and burns it, putting on some clothes from his victims, the cash enough to live off of for a few days. He drags the bodies into the cellar of an abandoned house, not caring to hide them much, crushing the phones under his foot. He looks down at his dress shoes for a moment, none of the victims having had his shoe size and then takes them off, throwing them into the fire as well, preferring socked feet to them. He buys sturdy shoes from a little off the track shop when it opens at 9 am, ignoring the looks he gets, silent even though he can speak the language a bit. He sits down in a little cafe, and eats some kind of pastry, trying to reign his emotions in, his thoughts full of blood and violence. 

___________________

He breaks into a little off track apartment after having watched it for hours during the day, apparently abandoned. Much like himself, so there's a fit. He drags an old cupboard in front of the door before he reclines on the broken sofa, the mattress seeming an unhealthy option. He looks at his wrist for a moment, his expression grim before he rolls into a ball, sleep a craved release. 

_____________________

The shouting on the street below wakes him.  
He takes a careful look out the drawn blinds and smiles wryly when he sees the commotion below, a circle forming rapidly around the scene. So. Not so uninterested in the lamb there after all. He commits the image to a special place at the stream in his memory palace, the two bodies in their dark gray suits, lying there in the dirt, one brunette, one silver blonde, their hearts in their hands, foreheads touching. A negative of their wedding photo.   
He steps back and takes the backdoor out, feeling a prickly sensation at the back of his neck. He doesn't turn but addresses the empty space before him.

"I'm not going to apologize, Hannibal. And, if you think I'm going on a high profile killing spree just to prove my worth to you, you're sadly mistaken."

Will swallows, but forces himself to continue, his voice very soft, almost inaudible in the early morning air.

"I am finally myself. And free again. No ties left to sever, apparently. I'm not going to risk my, or, as I still believe, our capture, by fueling your delusions about my intentions. Employ your brain, Hannibal."

He takes a deep breath, calm acceptance settling with resolution deep within his soul. 

"I don't need to prove my commitment, Hannibal. Or my worth. And by the way, adultery is pretty low. Especially for you. And definitely to just prove a point for heavens sake. So. This time, Hannibal, you will have to become what -you- promised me. And I will judge -your- worth."

He tilts his head, almost tasting the desperation gnawing at Hannibals soul.

"I know why you did it. I know. This... plan hurt you so much it made you close down on your feelings. But guess what. They're there nonetheless. There's no escaping them. Trust me, I know about that as well."

Will chuckles and smiles humorlessly, expression pained.

"Don't worry about me. I'm just gonna use Freddie after all. And don't dare to deny this love."

He takes a step, but stops once more, some of the anger resurfacing.

"Oh, and for heavens sake stop being such a dick and pump her full of drugs. You really should know better by now."

This time, he doesn't stop again, the sensation of a swirling maelstrom of frustration, desperation, anger and terror following his progress until he is out of sight.


	3. Chapter 3

Will walks the streets slowly until he finds a little internet cafe, one of these still surviving yet almost extinct hovels, where almost all clients only go to download porn undetected.  
He chooses a small alcove and starts the pre-installed tor browser, adds vpn for good measure and starts typing an email. The wait for the response isn`t long and Will has to smile wryly, Freddie once more rather predicatable.  
He sends another email, asking for her number.

This one takes a bit more time. Probably rethinking the options. Will uses the time to buy a burner phone, wondering quietly at how easy all of this comes to him now. He switches computers, picking a corner this time, away from the other patrons. When the email comes he dials the provided number without hesitation, the phone being picked up on the second ring. He makes his voice as unthreatening as possible.

"Freddie, how nice of you to pick up."

"Mr. Graham-Lecter. A rather unexpected pleasure. I feel the need to inform you that you have about 30 seconds until I will relay this to the FBI, better make that good."

Will grins for a moment, knowing an empty threat when he hears it. There's no way Freddie would risk gathering info right now. Even with their history.

"I'm not surprised Hannibal didn't manage to break your spirit, Freddie. Sorry about that by the way, a slight misunderstanding."

She is silent, no doubt rolling her eyes at him. He licks his lips before he continues.

"I was wondering if you would be interested in continuing where we left off?"

Her voice is acidic yet still melodic.

"That would then be the 'shutting me up' part? I would guess you would have to take my eyes next, because I sure as hell would not stop looking for a way to write about you."

Will grins again, unseen.

"Well yes, kind of. Have you heard how Alana managed to solve all those cases?"

"She used you I heard. Very clever."

Wills grin turns furious for a moment.

"Yes. Here is my offer. I'm offering you information and my insights - you could make 'Tattle Crime' the only source for relevant information regarding certain crimes."

The line is silent for a long time. When the answer comes Will can tell that they're already in the negotiations though Freddie tries her best to sound bored. He has to suppress the impulse to throw his fist into the air.

"Now, Mr.Graham-Lecter, whyever would you do that?"

Will clicks his tongue, his tone carefully inflicted by boredom.

"Well, this life is... rather low profile right now, as I'm sure you noticed. And I miss profiling."

If Will is honest, that is not even a lie. He is pretty sure Freddie can scent the truth in it like a shark.

"What would be in it for you?"

Will laughs at the direct question.

"Well for one, I expect a certain payment for each... article I send you. And I expect you to stick to the truth."

She catches on immediately, her tone of voice sending a shiver of pain through Will, dripping with amused condescendance.

"I see. Trouble in paradise? You know what they say, Mr. Graham-Lecter, it all goes south in the seventh year... Aren't you in year seven now?"

Will grinds his teeth, reflecting that for all intents and purposes they are indeed in year 7 now. Still, he stays with the truth, knowing Freddie would be able to call him on it otherwise.

"Something relating to this ... slight misunderstanding I mentioned."

He pauses, inflecting his voice with a steely confidence he doesn't quite feel. 

"Do we have a deal?"

Her voice is amused when she answers, indicating she knows that he is under pressure to make this work. Will smiles grimly. Well, everthing comes at a price.

"Oh yes, Mr. Graham-Lecter, I would like to cooperate with you. Please, inform me, how will we make this little... partnership work?"

Will takes a deep breath, takes the plunge. There's still no guarantee she won't inform the authorities. But, he is out of options with Chiyo gone as a reliable source and Hannibal being a stupid asshole. He releases his breath slowly, voice calm.

"I want you to check with some contacts you have down here. Get me certain information on crimes. I will either solve them by profiling them for you or... they will be solved by facts. Either way, I will provide you with the information to write about it first."

There is another silence, her thoughts probably racing. Her voice is calculating when she responds.

"Of course I would only be able to pay you as much as any other anonymous source for the information, Mr. Graham-Lecter. Which is not much, I'm afraid."

Will laughs softly, slightly self deprecatingly. 

"I am aware of that, Freddie. Please just use the email address I contacted you with. I will provide a number account in offshore banks shortly. It's been a pleasure talking to you again."

Freddie's voice is sly.

"Ah, the pleasure is all mine, this time at least. Should I provide information about that little tableau in that back alley?"

Will is silent, closing his eyes. Trust Freddie to already having picked that up. Hannibal and his pretentious stupidity sometimes. She continues after a few seconds, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I thought not. There's no need to profile something as obvious. Though apparently authorities down there have not caught on yet. I sincerely hope they won't. Don't you agree, Mr. Graham-Lecter?"

Will smiles again grimly at her words, reluctantly congratulating her for her spunk. He lets the grudging admiration show in his tone.

"I would agree, yes. Anything else, Freddie?"

She chuckles, but takes a moment. When she speaks her tone is soft again though acidic.

"I just want to let you know how thrilled I am that I was right once more, Will. You are a killer after all."

Will closes his eyes for a moment but raises his chin. His eyes are steely blue when he opens them again. He makes his voice very soft, kind.

"Yes. And you would do well to remember that."

He hangs up, letting some of the dread he feels fall away.

___________________

 

Will rents a small room for a week in a rundown apartment house with the last of his money, resigning himself to hunting again for more in the next days. That night he wakes to the smell of burning candles and whispered prayers permeating his consciousness and he smiles, a tear running down his left cheek.

___________________

 

Freddie sends the first mail 3 days after their conversation. It's a robbery gone wrong and Will decides to just profile them for the local authorities. It's not exactly rocket science and he sends the info detailing the perps to her that afternoon, the papers headlining the trios capture the very next day. Will grins and sends a one word mail: 'more'.


	4. Chapter 4

They establish a rhythm. One crime every three days. It's comforting as a distraction even though Will falls slowly into the towns rhythm, his body taking this as an extended vacation. He starts talking to the locals, his spanish crawling back, his accent polishing itself up. He takes long runs along the beach, working up his fitness levels even more.

He tries to keep up with the gossip. Because gossip has it, apparently, that the new fancy couple, an older handsome gentleman and a very beautiful young lady don't keep up their social appearances anymore. Everyone agrees that this is such a shame, both of them so perfect together at receptions and the theater. Will snorts but his heart beats a bit faster nonetheless though he stomps quite hard on the hope that wants to rise treacherously.

Freddie calls him a 'vigilante' in the articles she publishes on 'Tattle Crime', the other papers picking the term up and running with it. It makes Will grin and cringe at the same time, a weird hesistance mixed with pride forming in him. Righteous violence indeed. His fingers itch, the need to spring into action increasing with every crime.

The turning point comes with another trafficker ring. Of course. Will doesn't profile them for the police. Instead, he descends on them like the proverbial angel of death, raining blood and fire on them, blade flashing, molotow cocktails inflaming the night sky. He stands there, after, at the edge of the property, his clothes bloody once more, bleeding from shallow wounds, elated, panting, staring at the roaring fire and he just knows, that, were he to turn now, he would find Hannibal staring at him.  
  


  
  
He takes a deep breath, raises his face to the stars for a moment and walks away, feeling that gaze upon him like a lead weight, pulling him in and yet buffeting him. His smile is painful and smug. Reverse psychology is a bitch, indeed.

And not even the mighty Hannibal Graham-Lecter is immune. 

___________________

Freddie is ecstatic. Or so Will surmises by the amount of money she transfers for the info he relays about the fire. The photos probably helped a lot, too. They don't talk again directly though for fear of surveillance, both sides aware that it's probably only a matter of time. 

Will uses the money to permanently rent a small apartment near the station, no questions asked but slightly better than anything of the last few months. Containing a real bed. He thankfully sinks onto the newly bought mattress there, his back informing him that he really is too old to sleep on shitty beds anymore. He inspects the small kitchen and then goes out to get some food, smiling at the cashier and feeling good about it, making her blush.  
When he returns there are 2 bottles of red wine on the table with two glasses. Will deliberates for a long while and then puts one glass carefully in front of the door, breaking it with his foot, the message rather clear in his opinion. He gets very drunk on the gifted wine that night though, aware that these bottles probably cost more than all he possesses right now. He raises his glass at the moon visible through the dirty kitchen window, giving himself over to drunk unconsciousness, safe in the knowledge that he is definitely being watched over.  
Though not by an angel. He grins and amends the possibilty of a fallen one though. 

______________________

The next hunt is a drug dealer again, Will once more drowning himself and his feelings in blood, flushing the chrystal meth down the toilet. He is very aware that he is being watched, again, his neck prickling, making him carefree in his movements, his body almost ethereal, his feelings transcendent and finally secure. And showing off just a tiny bit. 

He knows it will happen before it does, and he huffs a laugh when it does, his hands coming up to Hannibals lapels when he is pushed up against the back alley wall after the dealers demise, faked as a robbery between gangs gone wrong, Hannibals breath hot against his face. Will tilts his head down without a conscious thought, the need outweighing everything, his lungs filling with the scent of Hannibals skin once more, nosing along Hannibals jaw, drawing back slowly, the memory finally there again, brand new with realities imprint.  
They stand there for a moment, their mouths inches apart, open, the air between them crackling with intensity. The moan that forces itself up and out of Hannibal makes Will mewl softly in response and he closes the distance between them, his eyes closing of their own accord. The moment their lips actually touch burns itself into Wills mind, the salty wetness of the tears unexpected, as is the almost shy way Hannibal holds him, close yes, but careful, as if Will would shatter in his hold. It makes something in Will melt, and he tilts his head further, touches his tongue to Hannibals and that is all it takes, the hesistancy breached, Hannibal literally gliding into Will, his tongue going deep, stroking, making Will shiver.

Hannibal presses him against further into the wall, chests against each other, their mouths battling for dominance now, teeth clashing, all heat and fury and desperation. Hannibals hands glide downwards and he powers his hips into Will, and Will rips his head sideways, pulls Hannibal back by his hair. 

"No."

Hannibal snarls at Will, his hands coming up to grip his shirt in a death grip very much like back then on the cliff. He even wears a similar expression, raw, open and hurting. It makes Wills heart seize. He tightens his grip on Hannibals hair, longer now than he remembers, slicked back and forces him to look him in the eye. Will licks his lips, sees Hannibals pupils dilate, the hunger held in check just so. Will whispers against his lips.

"Thank you for the wine... It was delicious."

Hannibal swallows and his voice is gravelly when he finally answers after a few tries.

"Yet you didn't want to share it with me."

Will nips at Hannibals lips, his teeth sharp, making Hannibal bleed.

"And I won't while you soil our marriage bed, if you so will. I sent her to you, I accept that part of the story, but I will not share, Hannibal."

Will licks at the blood, makes sure his tongue touches Hannibals just for an instant, the almost inaudible groan payment enough and he grins. He lets Hannibals hair go and uses all his strength to push Hannibal back, the physical separation hurting them both like a whiplash. Will sighs deeply and drops his hands, straightens his clothes and then turns his back, walking away once more.


	5. Chapter 5

Freddie sends him a scan of a newspaper a few weeks after that, the days and weeks after that night eerily quiet and heavy on Wills nerves. It's a lead article of the Washington Post, the big newspaper headlining the return of a confused and dehydrated Clarice Starling aboard a small boat to the U.S. in big letters. 

Will traces his fingers along the article, wondering what will happen now. Apparently Hannibal worked very hard on making her forget, using the boat and dehydration as a setup, but then he probably was a bit... distracted. Will grins wryly yet smugly and looks over at all the bottles in a corner of the room, testament to many a drunken night, courtesy of Hannibal. He turns over on his back on the mattress, examining his own feelings on the matter. He raises his left wrist, examining the scarred branding there, and then trails his gaze up to his empty finger. 

He breathes out deeply, deciding to take the next step. He buys two bottles of that stupidly expensive wine, making a deep hole in his funds and puts them in front of his own door that evening, trying to discern when Hannibal picks them up but failing - again. The sneaky bastard. Will grins wryly in the morning, staring at the empty spot, shaking his head, grudgingly impressed. He taps his finger against the doorframe and then grins and goes downtown to get a haircut.

__________________

When he returns there's no wine waiting for him but a small package. Will knows what it is before he even bends down to retrieve it and his fingers shake when he opens it. He turns it over in his hands, right there in front of his door, knowing he is watched all his senses always primed for Hannibal these days. His fingertips trace the brushed surface of the platinum ring, it's engraving precisely at the same spot the original rings were, fitting him perfectly when he pushes it on after a moment. He tilts his head towards the corner in acknowledgement and then goes inside, closing the door silently behind him, grinning to himself, waiting for the knock. It doesn't take long.  
Wills heart picks up speed when he gets up to answer it, feeling light headed, nervous like a teenager for heavens sake. He holds onto the door to steady himself, eyes lowered, his right hand reaching for Hannibal before he can stop himself.   
He feels him take the proffered hand, silently stepping passed Will, his aftershave doing things to Will, the ring on his finger a stark contrast on his skin.   
Hannibal stands there for a moment, in the middle of the small room, silently looking at Will. Will raises his eyes and the image of Hannibal is like a punch in the gut. He is open, no person suit in sight, his expression a mixture of pain, desperation and exultation, all rolled into the sharp exterior of a dark suit and clean shaven face, framed by silvery hair. Will closes the door silently and then tugs on Hannibals hand, stepping back towards the bed. 

Hannibal licks his lips but stays there, resisting the tug. He tilts his head, sighing. 

"We need to talk, first, beloved."

Will grins wryly but cannot help it. 

"Didn't we agree that we had already found a solution for our arguments already? Way back in Scotland?"

Hannibal smirks but sobers up quickly, his expression haunted when he searches Wills eyes. 

"I killed that Will Graham. He died by my hand, clawing at my skin. It was the first death I was the reason of that I sincerely regretted..."

Will closes his eyes, swallowing. When he opens them again he lets the deep resolution he reached the last few weeks shine through. 

"And so the worst thing has already happened, hasn't it?"

Will hesitates and smirks wryly, emphasizing his next words mirroring the beginnings of their intimate relationship with another tug. 

"So, tell me Hannibal, how long does it take for a body to be as if it was untouched? How responsive will I be now?"

There is a pause and if Wills heart wasn't beating in his throat already he would have laughed out loud, Hannibal apparently unable to form a decent thought, all the blood suddenly somewhere else.   
Will chuckles breathlessly and then licks his lips, the air between them crackling, the dark eclipsing the red of Hannibals eyes. Wills voice is an almost inaudible whisper. 

"Hannibal Graham-Lecter, will you be my Murder Husband once more? I do need an equal, you know..."

Hannibal closes his eyes and stills for a moment and Will finally steps close after a few seconds, kissing the tear away that trails down his cheek silently.   
Hannibal drops his linked hand and then trails both hands up Wills arms, up his head and holds Wills head softly in his hands threading his fingers through his hair. His voice is raw when he speaks, twisting hurtful words of so long ago around. 

"You let me see you... And I, I did not want it."

Will swallows, his voice failing him. He shakes his head minutely within Hannibals grip, forcing the whisper.

"Didn't you?"

Hannibal swallows again, and continues haltingly, tears falling freely now. 

"You gave me a great gift. The lamb playing God. Believe in me now, once more, mylimasis."

Will closes his eyes once more for a moment, his voice soft. 

"Let us be what we were meant to be, Hannibal." 

He grins, taking the sting out. 

"But no more games - except... maybe with others."

Hannibal huffs a laugh, his forehead descending onto Wills and Will closes his eyes, their memory palace flaring open.   
Hannibal slowly tilts his head and Wills heart picks up even more speed mirroring the movement. There is a little beep from his phone in the corner and Wills eyes fly open, he folds his knees under himself, making Hannibal fall onto him in one swift movement, letting his head go to brace them from the impact. There is an explosion of glass, the dirty window that Will liked to look at the moon through, riddled by bullets. 

Will hisses and snarls, both rolling over to the wall in sync, reaching for the knives on the kitchen table. Will draws himself up, another round of bullets flying over his head with inches to spare, his mattress destroyed by them within seconds. He chances a look at Hannibal who wears a mask of furious indifference, but the look at Will is smoldering. Will grins ferociously and raises his eyebrows, whispering in the sudden quiet.

"Now, who of us wasn't careful enough I wonder..."

Hannibal silently and very deadpan takes a dish towel and throws it at him, making Will laugh quietly under his breath, incredibly happy despite the dire situation they are in.   
Hannibal flicks his eyes towards the door and holds his fingers up, silently counting down. As soon as he balls his fist they dart to the apartement door, both freezing in place next to it, their stance predatory, knives glinting. Will feels alive, and he feels Hannibal ghost a kiss onto his neck. The door flies open with a kick from the outside and Will drops down and slashes at the knees of the special forces officer, Hannibal pushing the gun up, literally throwing the man into the others.   
The next few moments are a blur, silvery flashes of steel and small pops of guns with silencers. Will stays low, Hannibal twirling above him, both darting around the corner when he possibility presents itself, a sudden sharp pain forcing Will to his knees, yelling and cursing, and Hannibal hauls him up, forces Will to fall into step with him, running down the hallway and darting into a janitors closet, the cupboard in it opening to an underground sewer. So this is how Hannibal snuck in and out. Will presses his left hand to his side, the blood seeping through. Hannibal looks at him and Will shakes his head, pointing forward, the shouting behind them still way too loud. 

They keep running for a felt eternity, Wills vision tunneling in way before they reach the exit. He doesn't raise the possibility of Hannibal going out alone, knowing that he wouldn't anyway. Not now. Not anymore.  
Will grins despite the pain he is in and sees Hannibal answer it for a moment before his gaze drops to the wound in Wills side and they stop right next to the exit, Hannibal pulling Wills hand away. He pushes the shirt up, Will clenching his teeth, panting. Hannibal inspects the wound carefully and then smirks wryly, his tone at once relieved and amused. 

"Apparently a clean shot through, muscle affected mostly. Nothing life threatening if we find some antibiotics. Though it probably hurts quite a lot. On a side note, it seems to be the exact mirror opposite of the wound Francis Dolarhyde inflicted on me."

Will grins, huffing a laugh that ends in a pained groan, the words hissed.

"I wouldn't mind for some of your drugs about now..."

Hannibal smiles softly and traces his left hand fingers down Wills temple. He pushes forward and ghosts a kiss on Wills nose, making Will laugh again, and hiss once more with the pain that action elicits. Hannibals voice is vaguely amused and utterly relieved.

"It would seem we have shook them off for a while. Good thinking indeed to install motion trackers in the abandoned buildings across the street. Now, I do know where we are, since I took this road quite a few times the last weeks. Come, beloved, there is a vet down the street."

Hannibal drags Will slowly down the street step by step, pretending for him to be drunk and Will lets his head fall against Hannibals, breathing in deeply, ignoring the pain. He looks up at the sky for a moment, and he smiles at the sun, closing his eyes. It is beautiful.


	6. Chapter 6

The vet is closed at this time and Will sends a little prayer to probably non existent gods for this little favor.   
He gratefully sinks down onto the examination table after Hannibal skillfully breaks the lock, relaxing despite everything. Hannibal retrieves a scalpel and cuts the shirt away, carefully cleaning the wound afterwards. He rummages through the cupboards, retrieving a syringe and two little vials, smirking at Will.

"Dogs pain killers and antibiotics. I am confident that the antibiotics will work on you, regarding the pain killers I am not so sure."

Will huffs a laugh and waves with his hand.

"Leave it then. I'll survive."

Hannibal looks at him for a moment and then nods, retrieving the needle, starting to sows the entrance and exit wounds up silently without hesitation. Will breathes a sigh of relief afterwards but has to admit, that in the grand scheme of things, this didn't even count as much pain. He says so, making Hannibal grin wryly though he stays quiet and continues dressing the wound.

Will drops the bloody shirt in a trash can, pulling on a t-shirt that the vet apparently forgot on the chair next to the table, a bit big on him, but not bloody at least. He carefully lowers himself to the floor, straightening, stepping up to Hannibal and kisses him softly. 

"Where to next?"

Hannibal opens his mouth to answer but stops and tilts his head, turning back to Will, and grins, making Will narrow his eyes suspiciously. Hannibal holds a finger up, silently asking Will to wait and leaves the room, Will deciding to finish up cleaning himself while he is away, making use of the paper towels above the sink.

When Hannibal returns he carries a bundle of towels, looking at Will silently for a long moment, making Will fidget. Hannibal comes closer silently, keeping their gazes locked, his voice soft.

"It will be difficult, I am aware of that. But... please accept this as an apology."

Wills brows draw together and he lowers his gaze, his heart skipping a beat when he sees the little snout peeking from the towels. He carefully pushes the towel away, the little head coming up right away, licking at his hand. He looks back up at Hannibal, his voice raw.

"Are you sure? It'll keep us up..."

Hannibals gaze is soft, something akin to remorse in his gaze.

"We will persevere. It is a puppy of a street dog I believe. It will be a good guardian."

Will takes the dog out of the towels, inspecting him, no her, he corrects himself. 

"Won't she be missed?"

"I found her in a cage with a note for a kill shelter. She was the only one clawing at her cage trying to get out which made me aware of her. She will be fine with us."

Will nods to himself and finally opens himself to the possibility, smiling at her, chuckling when she tries to lick his face. He smiles broadly at Hannibal, unaware that it is the happiest he has been in quite a while.

"What should we call her?"

Hannibal tilts his head, considering.

"Would you be averse to 'Emily'?"

Will swallows, blinking away sudden tears. His mothers name. Well, trust Hannibal to hit gold right away. He clears his throat, nodding silently, a shiver running down his spine. He bends down and whispers to her.

"Hello, Emily. Welcome to the family."

______________________

 

They take a big pile of antibiotics and dog food with them, as well as wound dressings and some bowls and a leash, all stuffed in a makeshift bag made from a blanket. Hannibal cleans the vets office carefully hiding their visit and the missing equipment with other stuff as good as possible, hopefully buying them some more time. 

They leave through the back door, staying to the back alleys. The sun is hot out and most people are inside, staying in the shades which suits them just fine. Hannibal stops at a bank, asking Will to sit in a small park for a while and returns with an envelope containing fake passports for them and credit cards, making Will shake his head in exasperation, swallowing down the emotions. So Hannibal had prepared for this after all.   
Hannibal opens one passport and shows it to him, a 'William Lansburdy' looking back at him, with the photo they took in Amsterdam. Well, his hair is greying now, though at least he's clean-shaven as well, though quite a bit more weathered. Will snorts and shakes his head, nodding at the other passport. Hannibal smirks and opens it, the name 'Rutger Bernstin' making Will snicker. Hannibal raises his eyebrows at him in mock outrage, his tone overly insulted.

"I do like 'Blade Runner', if I may inform you. It was way beyond its time."

Will laughs out loud, ending in a smirk, his voice amused and yearning, holding his side tightly.

"Can't wait to watch it with you then. Have you been folding unicorns as well?"

Hannibal shoots him a look that answers that questions quite succinctly and Will has to hold his wound more tightly against the pain his laughing elicits. He is still snickering when he follows Hannibal down the street, carrying Emily in his arms. Hannibal stops at a touristy shop and Will groans to himself but doesn't object when Hannibal outfits them with stupid and ugly straw hats as well as gaudy glasses and ponchos, the masquerade paying off right away when the police car passing them by doesn't pay them any further attention.   
Hannibal takes him further towards the suburbs slowly, quite clearly with a goal in mind, reaching their apparent goal, a caravan dealer, in the late afternoon. By then Will is exhausted, his shirt clinging to his body, sweat and dirt everywhere. Hannibal unblinkingly pays a totally ridiculous amount for a mediocre caravan, held together by prayers and duck tape apparently, Will still entering it utterly grateful, flopping down on the mattress in the back with a groan, the movements of the vehicle pulling him down to sleep within minutes, Emily nestled in his arms.

_________________

He returns to consciousness with the sensation of Hannibal checking his pulse, taking his temperature by touch. Hannibal silently administers another shot of antibiotics, Will sighing almost contently. He looks over at Emily, feeding happily from a bowl of prepared dog food, and raises his hand, drawing Hannibal down with it, the kiss intense, Will giving himself over to it completely, Hannibal tongue-fucking into his mouth slowly and softly, going deep, making Will moan. Hannibal draws back, both panting and traces his lips. 

"We are not safe yet, mylimasis. They put all the roads on lockdown. I have parked us in a warehouse for now."

Will smiles wryly.

"Deja vu."

Hannibal nods, though his expression is hooded. His tone is careful.

"Did you leave any trace for them to follow?"

Will shakes his head, utterly glad he switched phones quite a few times since the call to Freddie. 

"Not that I'm aware of. I always used the computers at cafes to contact Freddie. And VPN. And the tor browser. And the only real contact I wanted to have is you."

Hannibal nods and then sighs, his expression self deprecating. 

"On the radio they said that they found traces of my DNA on the boat. A hair in the bathroom. They followed it back to the house and then tracked down my wine purchases. Apparently that is how they found your apartement."

Will doesn't have to ask which boat. He shakes his head, his expression grim.

"So it wasn't you who took the bottles of wine after all?"

Hannibal looks down at him, amused.

"You bought me wine?"

Will licks his lips.

"Well, as a peace offering. A sign of reciprocation. I kinda regret that now though..."

He snickers, his own train of thought seeming ridiculous.

"I'm just glad I didn't have the idea to put rings out there as well."

Hannibal bends down and kisses him softly, the possessive need rising to the surface once more, pressing Will down into the mattress, deepening the kiss. His eyes are a deep red when he pulls back again.

"Indeed."


	7. Chapter 7

They stay in the warehouse till the night is almost over, opting for time but the necessity for food and especially water forces them to abandon their hideout, both rather matter of fact about it.  
There is nothing they can possibly use as a weapon in the caravan and so they decide to just chance it, pulling into the next supermarkets parking lot, the flickering neon lights illuminating the sunrise, the 24h open sign half broken. 

Will steps out slowly, careful not to irritate his wound, enjoying the early morning air. Emily hops out and he walks her over to the parking lots edge for a moment, waits till she is done, praising her overwhelmingly after, her licking his face making him laugh happily. So, apparently he did miss this rather much after all. He turns his head and meets Hannibals gaze, watching, always watching him intently now, a vulnerability to never let him out of sight showing that wasn't there before. The vulnerability of a man that waited, fought, won and then lost it all, denial included. Will swallows and smiles at him, cuddling Emily. He knows the next time 'they' will force them to surrender it will be to death. But he will fucking go down in a blaze of glory if need be. He raises his chin, his expression reflecting his thoughts, Hannibal mirroring it, a small smile tugging at Hannibals mouth. Will walks over silently, stopping only a few inches away.

"Come on, lets go and get some... equipment."

Hannibal kisses him quickly, just a brush of lips and then takes Emily and puts her on the drivers seat, locking the caravan despite her protesting, whining and jumping on the seat.

Will chuckles and turns towards the shop, greeting the tired guy behind the counter in almost accent free spanish, quickly checking the empty aisles. Hannibal nods at him and goes to the personal ... amenities area, Will grinning, no blush in sight this time. No time for weird morals, not anymore. He quickly puts water into the shopping cart, a few bottles of wine, and bread and butter, some kind of hard sausage. He drops some sturdy looking kitchen knives into it as well, deeming them good enough to fight with. He bends down for some fake cream when he hears the cocking of a gun, the cold metal slowly pushing against the skin behind his ear.  
There is a minute movement of the barrel, and Will straightens up slowly, feeling a cold hatred for whoever dares to endanger them now. He chances a look into the polished surfaces of the bottles next to him, the uniform dented and twisted but recognizable. A cop. Well, fuck. The mans voice is calm, his english accented but still clear enough, the one word expected anyway.

"Where?"

Will raises his head, lets it fall back into his neck, rolling his shoulders. He shrugs, which earns him a small kick at his foot. He licks his lips, his eyes cold when he opens them to the ceiling. His voice is almost amused.

"Don't throw your life away..." 

The officer hisses at him to be quiet in spanish, emphasizing the order with a nudge of the gun, and Will complies, grinding his teeth. He can feel the darkness approach and it makes him smile, spooking the officer. Will laughs quietly when Hannibal drops down from an aisle, Will turning and wrenching the gun from the mans grip, inspecting it dispassionately. There is a gurgling sound and he looks up, sees Hannibal come up with a piece of the mans throat between his teeth. Will is dimly aware that this probably shouldn't be hot, but the sight makes him short breathed, stepping closer as if in trance, licking the droplet of blood from Hannibals chin when he swallows the piece down. Will groans and then grins, stepping back, resumes his shopping. He returns after a moment, still grinning, bends down to the dying mans body and retrieves the chemical mace as well as the handcuffs plus keys and then goes back to the shopping cart, not looking back, a ripping sound following his progress.

Will fills the cart with everything he can think of, secure in the knowledge that his new credit card will take it, the cart overflowing in no time. He pulls up to the cashier in minutes, not wanting to spend much time in this shop. He smiles at the totally freaked cashier, white as a wall, and follows his gaze down aisle 3 where certains sounds and a small river of blood gently flow down to them. Will shrugs and proceeds to list the items up, pulling the man in with his calm countenance after a moment, shakingly packing all their groceries away. When Hannibal joins them after a few minutes he politely asks for some foil to wrap some meat with and Will grins sharply, slyly asking if they will need more eggs to go with it. The guy behind the cashier takes that as a cue to barf his heart out, Will only clicking his tongue, smirking at Hannibal, who calmly wraps the organs in paper and wipes his hands.  
Will packs everything into paper bags himself and then offers the cash Hannibal got with the passports and credit cards to the very green guy behind the counter. He tilts his head.

"Don't be stupid. At least your expenses will be taken care off. Add some for the cleaning."

The guy takes the offered cash with shaking fingers and Will grins at him again, while Hannibal wheels the cart outside and loads their caravan. He leans over the cashier conspirationally, lowering his voice, his spanish melodic.

"Now, normally, we would have to kill you. But, since we cannot possibly hide this from authorities now, I will be happy with the security tapes. Be clever and get them for me..."

The guy swallows and then throws up again, making Will sigh. It takes almost 5 minutes until he has the DVD-RWs in his hands, breaking them into pieces and Will waves at the guy, his walk back to the caravan marking a final departure from his solitary lifestyle of the last few months, salivating for whatever Hannibal chooses to make from their fresh cut. Or would that be rip. Although he will probably will have to wait until they have somehow managed to clear the road block. Oh well. Will smirks, his eyes dark.


	8. Chapter 8

They have to literally ram three police cars while clearing the road block in the early morning hours. They switch caravans on the next camping area, hastily carrying Emily and their bags over, though caravannapping would probably be a more appropriate term. Will grins wickedly, scratching Emily behind her ears. They do it again and again, criss crossing across the various parking lots, until they encounter one without previous occupants and Will realizes that Hannibal must have phoned ahead, this one already prepared with utilities beforehand.  
They drive back towards the east coast, almost taking the exact roads again, secure in the knowledge that the police still follows their caravan switching trail. It's night again when they stop at a cliff at the east coast again, having driven for hours and hours. Will turns his head to Hannibal, who is parking them just around the corner of an enourmous boulder, hiding them completely from view. He smiles and he tries to guess the height from behind the windshield, though that doesn't matter much - or at all. He grins, cuddling Emily.

"Wanna go cliff diving?"

Hannibal stills and then turns his head, his red gaze eclipsed almost completely by black. Will swallows and suddenly diving is the last thing on his mind. He scratches Emily between her ears and then lets her out, pretty safe in the knowledge she is too clever to just wander off. Hannibal is right next to him when he closes the door again an Wills breath is short, breathing in the smell of sweaty skin and musk that is Hannibal. He groans and mewls when Hannibal bows down and mouthes at Wills cock through his pants, the wet hot heat almost too much already after all this time. Will pulls him off by the hair, again, shaking his head.

"No, I want you in me. Even if we both won't last."

Hannibal groans and then comes up and eats Wills mouth, making them both light headed, pushing them ever closer already. Hannibal grins and shakes his head, reaching passed Will, retrieving oil from the kitchenette behind the front chairs.  
His left hand goes to his own trousers, opening them and pushing them down and Wills breath comes in pants now, following suit, accepting this turn without much regret. Hannibal moves and kneels over Will, his hands disappearing behind after pouring some oil over his fingers and Will cannot help it, he holds onto the hands lightly, biting his lips, feeling Hannibal opening himself up. Hannibals forehead descends until they are touching, groaning softly in anticipation, the union craved above all. Will chuckles and then arranges Hannibal with deft movements, not daring to wait anymore, not caring for further preparation.   
Hannibal hums against his temple and lowers himself, the glide unstoppable and desperate and brutal and craved and iradescent and everything. Hannibal hides his face in Wills neck and Will just holds tight, buried in that heat, consumed by that need. He tightens his hands on Hannibals hips, remembering, tilting them at a certain angle, grinning wickedly, and slams up, once, twice, thrice and then Hannibal cannot help but grunt above him, convulsing, coming, against him, around him, arms around Wills neck, the contractions pulling Will down with him, unstoppable pleasure forcing their souls.   
Wills whisper is raw and still breathless when he returns to his body, still connected to Hannibal, the wound in his side sealing their union in blood. 

"Don't you dare to deny this love. Ever again."

Hannibal shakes his head, still buried in Wills neck and when he bites down it is a release that Will craves with all his soul.

____________________

They stay there for the night, Will even doing the mentioned cliff diving, grinning like a daredevil at Hannibal when he returns from the water, shaking the water off like a dog. Hannibal offers him a bite of the open flame grilled meat, and Will eats it with a relish, accentuationg it with a sip of wine from a tin cup. He is not sure Hannibal could look more besotted than he does in that moment. Will grins and kisses him, the future for once clear before them. 

All or nothing.

_____________________

 

They drive south, Hannibal directing them to a ferry across the bay, which they enter at the last minute on the last evening trip once more, the tactic once more successful. The trip across is uneventful, Hannibal insisting on restitching Wills wound after it has ripped a bit with their movements the evening before. He insists for Will to take another dose of antibiotics and lay down, while he takes Emily out. Will can see them both in the dark out there, Hannibals poncho obscuring his form, dark silhouetted against the moon, carrying the little dog against his chest. It makes Will ache. 

They switch the caravan for a big volkswagen bus at the next bigger town, apparently utterly inconspicious around here, though Will misses the bed right away, the fold-down seats definitely not the same. And the kitchenette doesn't deserve the name either. Hannibal smirks at his grimace and assures him they will only be using this vehicle for another few days. Will raises his eyebrows at him, vaguely interested but too lazy to bother to ask, opting instead for leaning his head slightly out of the window, letting the air ruffle his curls, Emily follows suit. It doesn't surprise him when he sees Hannibal draw them both like that in a small dirty notebook that evening, rough with a ballpoint pen, but still a beautiful image. 

They fall into a quiet routine with a naturality that makes Will ache slightly for the time lost, switching driving every few hours. He can feel that ache in Hannibal as well, the touches they share always desperately careful yet intense. Hannibal insists they wait a bit more for anything more adventurous than hand jobs, not happy with reopening Wills wound in the first place.   
He starts rubbing oil into the various new scars on Wills upper body, silently tracing them all, a barely conceiled fury in every tightly controlled movement, Emily snoring beside them on the floor.   
Will doesn't comment, knowing that most of that fury is directed at Hannibal himself, also knowing he will have to work through that alone. And knowing how shitty Hannibal is at that, so he stays quiet, instead enjoying the attention. When Hannibal finally breaks the silence his voice is deep and dark with emotion and fury, tinged with sorrow.

"I thought that if I closed the revenues of help down, that I could force you to make their lies become the truth. I did not think you would turn to this..." 

Will swallows, a sad smile flickering across his features. 

"I didn't put a branding of what my mind represents our relationship with on our wrists to kid around, Hannibal. I can't go back to any of my old life. There's only you now. I told you, you better remember that and make it worth my while..."

Hannibal stills and swallows, kneeling above Will, his fingers burning on Wills chest.

"And I did not."

Will clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes before opening them, locking gazes with Hannibal. 

"I've told you, I know why you did it. Mirror neurons, remember? Besides, they were watching Molly... I wonder if they knew I was there and were tolerating my... little stunts in order to take a shot at catching you. Would fit with Jacks thinking I guess."

He swallows and forces a smile, knowing Hannibal can just see through the lie.

"So, it was probably for the best."

Hannibal bends down and kisses him, soft and dry for once, trying to relay every and each emotion. Wills arms come up and pull him down, and Hannibal settles carefully atop of him, keeping his weight on Wills right side, legs stretching out. Will slowly draws up his legs, locking them around Hannibals, keeping him there, his arms around Hannibals shoulders.   
He deepens the kiss, moaning deep in his throat when he feels Hannibal sigh against him. Will starts biting along Hannibals lower lip softly, grinning when he feels the effect that has in their lower bodies. Hannibals hands come up to slowly push through his curls and pull Wills head sideways, opening his mouth further, both taking up a small grinding after a while without conscious thought. Will starts panting and draws his legs up further without further ado, pulling back to look Hannibal in the eye. The blackish red hue darkens further, the twisting darkness threatening to swallow him down. 

"Please."

Hannibals voice is gravelly.

"We should not, mylimasis. Not yet."

Will hisses and snaps his teeth at him and Hannibal grins, his face alight with elated darkness, reveling in Wills. He lowers his head until he can reach Wills left ear, softly licking along the lobe between words. 

"But when you are healed I will make sure you forget your name in my arms."

Will sighs and tilts his head to give him more access before turning back and returns to kissing him deeply, settling for a low to medium grade arousal for now. Grudgingly.


	9. Chapter 9

The trip down to Rio Grande takes them across the border to Chile and back, on another ferry and south, south. Their little bus breaks down after 2000 km, with only 200 km left to go and Will cannot help but laugh, Hannibal looking at him silently, no doubt commiting the sight to memory. Will tries to repair the engine, but there is only so much he can do without the necessary parts. They take as much of their stuff as they can and travel on on foot, Hannibal buying two donkeys with his platinum cufflinks a few miles on. Will snickers silently at the expression of disgust at the smell but wisely refrains from commenting.

They slowly ride down to the next village where they barter for a rusty car, Hannibals watch and the donkeys exchanged for it. Emily jumps around their feet, clearly ecstatic to be out on the road, whining when they pick her up to put her in the cars back seat. If Will is totally honest he can emphasize. Hannibal smirks at him, commenting on his rather basic riding skills and Will shrugs. Still fun. Hannibal tilts his head in consideration.

"Is this something you would wish to do, beloved?"

Will draws his brows together, considering.

"What? Riding?"

Hannibal shrugs lightly, the motion inexplicably elegant.

"Living on a ranch. Dogs, horses and probably cattle amass. It would be a possibility."

Will hums, trying to imagine their life there.

"But we couldn't here, could we? They know we were in South America, they'll comb the goddamn continent now."

Hannibal smirks, his expression sly.

"Which is why we will not stay on this continent."

Will tilts his head, catching on, grinning wickedly.

"Falcland isles."

Hannibal nods, carefully swerving their rusty vehicle around a gap in the road.

"Yes. Only 3000 souls I believe but a full size landing strip for the military. I have arranged for us to be picked up there by a small plane."

He is silent for a moment, looking over to Will before returning his gaze to the road. 

"Would you like to live with me in South Africa? There are a lot of ranches with horses down there."

Will grins.

"And penguins."

Hannibal echoes his smile.

"And penguins."

Will reaches over, his hand on Hannibals leg squeezing softly.

"I'd love to."

________________________

 

They take a big fisher boat to the Falcland isles, hiding within their car in a freight container they drove into on the fishermans indication, Will glad but nervous when they can close the door behind them, the cash drawn and provided apparently enough to make almost everyone happy.   
The trip across is heavy on the waves side, Will quietly supporting Hannibal through it, who still doesn't have any sea legs. Emily whines the whole time, and Will switches rubbing backs, wryly smirking to himself.

They anchor outside the harbor in the deep of the night and the fisherman waves at them and ushers them into a dinghy, Will taking Emily and Hannibal taking their fake IDs, leaving the ponchos, cleaning up as good as possible, trying to look more european. Which is hard with their weathered skin. They step onto the islands just outside of town in a small rock alcove, trying to keep behind the houses when they go near the air strip. Will sees the plane and breathes a small sigh of relief and then freezes when he sees some soldiers exiting the plane, exchanging words with the pilot. They hide behind a corner, watching, as the soldiers instruct the pilot, telling him to go inside the plane obviously, the soldiers stepping back, checking the vicinity, taking positions at some hidouts. Will grinds his teeth, feeling Hannibals dark menace behind him. He feels Hannibal touch his wound in contemplation and tilts his head back, rising his right eyebrow and misses the click of the handcuffs. They fit around his right hand and the water pipe snugly and Will freezes for a second before litterally spitting the words out in fury.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Hannibal grips his hair and pulls his head close, kissing his temple though Will resists the tug, seething.

"I will not risk you in this, not further. And you will have to care for Emily."

He stops for a moment, his breath hot against Wills forehead. Will closes his eyes, still furious, waiting for Hannibal to continue. Hannibal whispers softly after a moment, voice full of emotion.

"I am aware that you are able to free yourself, mylimasis, in fact I am counting on it. I want you to enter the plane as soon as you do. I will endeavor to join you as soon as possible. But, I wish for you to make the pilot start the plane right away. I will find a way."

Will hits his free fist at the wall, snarling.  
He forces the fury down, calming his voice.

"Do you think they know it's us?"

Hannibal shakes his head. 

"No. I would think they suspect us to be smugglers. Hence only two soldiers."

His voice turns smug, making Will want to punch him.

"If they knew it to be us, they would provide more force."

Will grinds his teeth, counting to ten before he answers.

"You better enter that plane, Hannibal. I swear I'll haunt you in afterlife if you don't."

Hannibal chuckles but his lips linger on Wills temple for a long time before he sighs and strokes along the place his lips were a moment before with his fingers, once. He steps back and is gone.   
Will hits the wall again and then forcibly folds in his thumb, the pain almost unfelt in his fury. He shakingly restores his thumb, adrenaline high and then pulls out the dead officers gun from the back of his pants, picks up Emily and closes his eyes. He counts to three and sprints forward.


	10. Chapter 10

The next minutes are a blur. His mind screams at him that everything is too quiet, too quiet, too quiet, his panted breaths loud in the night air. Emily cowers in his left arm, picking up the mood. He races down the airfield, his heart thundering in his chest, the wound in his side pulling at the stitches. Again. He grits his teeth, feeling the wetness after a sharp turn left under the jets right wing, coming to a halt right under, half hidden by the stairway in front.  
He strains to listen, imagines he can hear a grunt and cocks the gun. The click is loud in the sudden quiet after, and then one of the soldiers steps out, yelling at Will to drop his weapon. Wills eyes dart left and right, desperate for a sign of Hannibal, but to no avail. He puts the stairway between himself and the soldier in a sudden move, hears the muttered curse and smiles grimly to himself. He presses a kiss between Emilys ears and puts her down, signing her to stay put. She whines softly but stays and Will grins at her for a moment.  
There is a sudden yell where the other soldier was hiding and Will steps out and fires. It doesn't even take a thought, the shots ringing loud in the air, the soldier going down, hit by 3 bullets, one severing the artery in his leg. Will observes grimly and then picks up Emily who is cowering behind the stairway, afraid. He takes the steps with big jumps, training the gun at the pilot, who just came out of the cockpit, wide eyed. His voice is calm, deadly serious.

"Start the engine."

The pilot swallows and nods, his eyes darting to the commotion at the end of the airfield. Will raises his gun and lightly pushes it between the mans eyes.

"Now."

He puts Emily down on one of the seats, the plane vibrating and howling to life around them. He pets her once and steps back towards the door, making sure he can watch the departure preparations while staying out of sight. There's sirens now, the military base on the other side coming to life. He has to forcibly still his tapping foot. The pilot tilts his head back, voice nervous.

"We have to close the door."

Wills voice is grim.

"Not yet."

The pilot opens and closes his mouth but starts the turn towards their starting position. The wind drags at Will but he refuses to budge as they take up speed, leaning out now, hand on the rail, trying to see anything in the first rays of morning. There are tears in his eyes and then, then, then he sees something, a bike coming down towards them, at high speed, the form on it familiar. Will closes his eyes for a moment, and yells at the pilot to keep going, everything in him falling into place. He grins wildly, stepping down, his hand pulling Hannibal onto the steps in a break-neck move, both stumbling and Will is laughing, pulling him up and in, both turning in unison to close the door.  
The pilot pushes the accelerator down and they are airborne in seconds, the sirens and blue lights disappearing below them. Will traces the bloody bump on Hannibals forehead for a moment, dangerously close to tears, at odds whether he wants to hit or kiss him and then turns, instructing the pilot to try to reach the proverbial international waters as soon as possible.  
Hannibal stumbles towards the seats and Will follows, right into his lap, kissing him deeply, the only word panted in between kisses, catching breath. 

"Asshole."

__________________

 

The flight takes over 7 hours, Will quietly contemplating the advantages of private planes while carding his fingers through Hannibals hair while he sleeps on the couch in the back. He made something resembling dog food from bread, sausage and water for Emily, who happily snores in her seat. 

Hannibal rouses close to Cape Town, the pilot informing them via intercom that airports are closed down due to some terrorist threat, asking them if they want to relocate. Though the fuel is scarce. Hannibal taps his finger once, thinking and Will stills his hand, grinning when his eyes fall on the bundles under the sideboard. Hannibals voice is amused and proud when he addresses Will. 

"A brilliant idea, mylimasis. Are you sure we can handle Emily?"

Will nods, already planning. He gets up, stretching and then draws the bags out, checking them throughly. Hannibal watches for a moment, and then goes to inform the pilot who is pissed beyond comparison. Well, that can't be helped. Will grins, setting one backpack aside. 

The pilot sets a course on autopilot, taking them close to main land and then turning towards open water. Downwards. He comes to them and takes the offered backpack, his expression troubled. Will shakes his head, his voice warm. 

"If we wanted to kill you, you would be dead now. My husband has arranged for your pickup and compensation. Just... conveniently forget everything after the 'engine failure'."

Hannibal holds up his phone, silently confirming and the man sighs deeply and then tightens the straps, re-checking everything.  
Will grins and copies the motions, tugging Emily into his jacket, ignoring her protesting. Hannibal finishes his preparations, pushes the few items they possess into his chest pocket and looks out of the window. 

"ETA 4 minutes, I believe."

______________________

 

The jump or better fall is exhilarating. 

They twirl in the air, the pilot drifting towards the east, they towards the west, again in darkness due to the time shift. Hannibal flashes a flashlight at him and Will pulls the lever, the parachute instantly opening, the sudden pull jarring.  
They glide down, the earth twirling closer, sparsely dotted with lights and Will tries to time it right but the sudden impact has him gasping for breath nonetheless, his ankle hurting. He hastily frees himself from the lines, dropping onto his back in the rough grass, feeling Hannibals impact close to him, hearing Emilys yelp, scrabbling to get free, all shadowed by the explosion of the plane hitting the water just off the coast. He throws his head back in the dirt and laughs out loud, his fingers deep in the soil. 

________________

They bury the parachutes below some stones and sand and then take the nearest road... somewhere. Will couldn't care less.  
He looks up, walking after Emily and finds Hannibal watching. He stops and turns, their mouths slotting together like a perfect fit, the kiss bordering on desperate. Will breaks the kiss again after a few moments, sighing deeply, his voice amused and relaxed. 

"Where to now?"

Hannibal smiles at him and then grips his jaw, the hunger barely conceiled, biting Wills lips, his gaze very dark. 

"Everywhere. Nowhere. Wherever you wish."

Will pulls him down by his hair roughly, lets his own darkness shine for a moment. 

"Perfect."

__________________

 

The cab that picks them up in the early morning hours doesn't quite deserve the name, but the driver waits patiently at the next bank while Hannibal gets some cash, which helps them more than enough. And apparently opens doors everywhere.  
Hannibal asks the driver to get them to a real estate agent after they stop for some decent clothes, the trip almost tranquil, Will dozing in the early morning sun. His eyes glide over the dashboard, exhaling loudly when he sees the date. Hannibal follows his gaze and then squeezes his hand, only 4 weeks left to their second anniversary. Wills voice is very dry. 

"Time flies when you're having fun."

Hannibal squeezes his hand again, Will holding on tightly against the sudden onslaught of pain, desperation, elation and fathomless, helpless love. 

____________________

 

The real estate agent is rather ecstatic at the prospect of selling the multi million dollar property, driving out with them to a little horse ranch, an hour outside Cape Town, at a small lake. They drive theough the entrance, the sign above saying 'insindiso' in Zulu. Salvation. 

Will lets Emily hop out of the car, stepping a few steps away from the chattering agent, breathing in. Horses, sun and... peace. Opportunity. He can see a helicopter landing pad around the corner, the main house an open and modern design. He tilts his head and asks the important question over his shoulder. 

"Is there a wine cellar?"

Hannibal smirks at him and offers his hand to the real estate agent when she nods, bewildered, never even averting his eyes from Wills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .......
> 
>  
> 
> So. They have arrived :)
> 
> I will continue this series, I'm scribbling down notes already (next one will be called "Wounds" and I have vague plans for Clarice), and their anniversary is coming up, and... But they won't be on the run again. ;)
> 
> Let me know what you think?!


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